Chapter Text
Tredia was wet. It was obvious from the science reports that Spock had handed Jim and the mission briefing he had been given from Starfleet, but looking at the precipitation percentage and water vs. landmass was different than beaming down and being surrounded by it.
Jim blinked as they materialized on the shore of a vast ocean. A soft mist was falling at a dreary sort of pace, seeping into his skin. He glanced around the area, alert in case of danger. Starfleet had made it sound like an easy diplomacy mission, apparently all Jim needed to do was confirm Tredia’s intentions to become permanent members of the Federation. However, Jim had done his own research about the tiny wet planet and knew the Tredians could get difficult if insulted.
He looked over at Uhura, who was speaking quietly to Spock. Despite their differences Jim was glad he brought her, she could probably arrange a garden tea party with feuding Romulans what with her cultural sensitivity skills, and she also had excellent aim if things went bad. Jim sighed, he was being pessimistic about the mission and Bones wasn’t even with him. It was probably the climate. Tredia seemed to be permanently raining, the sky a gray twilight, the air chilly. Tredian atmosphere was known for storms, even with it being fairly decent right now it still prevented them from getting accurate beaming signals. It had taken all morning to get the transporter stable enough to beam the crew down during a pocket of quiet weather.
Jim looked up, noticing a small group of Tredians assembling a distance away, at the base of a dark massive cliff. Most of the Tredians wore the ornamental headdresses of Tredia advisors and plain gray robes. With a nod to his landing party, Jim began to walk towards the group. His boots crunched against the ground with each step. Tredia was almost entirely ocean and rocks, their beaches covered with finely ground pebbles that were a dark blue, almost black color and sharp enough that Jim was glad for the thick soles of his boots.
“We are pleased to meet you, heir to the Federation,” The Tredian in the center of the waiting party spoke as Jim stopped a few feet away.
The Tredian leader’s voice was monotonous, the six slits he had for nostrils widening slightly as he inhaled. The Tredians looked vaguely human, though their slender bodies were quite tall. Their skin was a silvery-white and much thicker and rougher than human skin, it looked almost like a lightly scaled hide. They were also completely hairless. At first glance their most obvious feature was that they didn’t have noses or ears, just slits, their eyes were human shaped and a beautiful vivid purple.
Jim knelt carefully on the stone ground, wincing as rocks dug into his knees.
“We are honored, heir to the Kingdom,” He responded in Tredian, the words slippery on his tongue.
He felt Uhura shift behind him and he resisted the urge to smile at what he was sure a look of surprise from her. The Tredians also seemed surprised but suitably impressed and Jim felt his shoulders relax slightly. Keeping standoffish diplomats pleased was always a good thing.
He stood after a pause and gestured with his hand in the Tredian curved motion that displayed goodwill.
“My crewmembers are eager to meet and speak with you,” Jim declared, wanting to smile again at the look one of his security officers shot him.
The security officers didn’t look remotely pleased to be there and Scotty was glancing around with obvious impatience to get back to the Enterprise. Jim watched Uhura subtly touch the engineer’s wrist and Scotty stilled. They exchanged a look that Jim had to smile at a bit, before glancing over at his first officer.
Spock and Uhura had broken up seven months ago and it was obvious that she and Scotty had something going on. Spock didn’t seem too fazed one way or another about it. He returned Jim’s stare with his own calm gaze, though Jim was sure Spock would have raised a slanted eyebrow, if they were back on the Enterprise.
Jim fought down the smile that threatened to escape and turned to face the Tredians who were regarding each of them carefully. A few of the men in the group cast admiring and curious looks at Uhura’s long sleek ponytail and darker skin, but none seemed concerned about Spock’s Vulcan appearance. Jim breathed another sigh of relief.
There were always places that weren’t welcoming to nonhumans. And there had been several away missions where Spock had been ridiculed, lusted after, or threatened for his pointed ears and green blood. Those missions never seemed to go well, mostly because Jim had to step in and try to educate, sometimes with a phaser if things got hostile towards Spock. Of course it usually meant that Spock reprimanded him back on board the Enterprise, or stopped talking to him for a day or two, but Jim knew that in his own way the Vulcan didn’t mind. Despite arguing to do so, Spock never told Starfleet about how many potential Federation members were lost due to Jim’s intolerance of bigotry.
“We of the water meet you of the dirt. Come, assemble with us.”
The lead Tredian spoke ceremonially, the words coming out a bit odd but Jim nodded his head. He couldn’t be responsible for what the universal translator said and honestly, Earth had a lot more dirt than Tredia. He offered a small grin to a security officer who had looked a little affronted by the Tredian’s wording. She responded with a sheepish smile and Jim gestured his crew forward.
They walked across the rocky beach, Jim looking upwards at the sheer black cliffs they were moving towards. He could see Spock out of the corner of his eye, the Vulcan as expressionless as always but Jim knew that Spock was torn between wanting to pull out a tricorder to scan everything or huddling deeper into his coat. Jim smiled slightly, proud that he could read Spock more clearly now. They stopped in front of the cliff face, the Tredian leader extended a hand, pressing his palm against the unyielding rock. With a grinding sound the rockface slid away, revealing an opening.
“We walk where water does not touch,” A slender male Tredian offered to them in standard, glancing at Jim, his purple eyes lingering on Jim’s wheat colored hair before moving downwards, eyes trailing across the captain’s command tunic before the Tredian looked away.
The once-over felt a bit weird, all things considered, but Jim let it go. At one time that look would have been all it took for him to approach the man. He had no qualms about species or gender when it came to that sort of thing. But it was stupid to hook up on an away mission and to be honest Jim hadn’t really hooked up since he was at the Academy. He had probably the longest record of celibacy for a captain, though probably the biggest rumored reputation that said otherwise.
He glanced over at Spock who had moved a step closer to him. The Vulcan was evidently trying hard not to shiver and Jim felt a burst of concern. The temperature was downright uncomfortable for him, he had no idea how Spock was dealing with it. Compared to Vulcan, Tredia had to be freezing, not to mention extremely soggy, Jim thought ruefully as they stepped through the narrow doorway. He pushed a hand through his wet hair and grinned at Uhura who was attempting to wring the water out of her ponytail. She shot him a look back but didn’t say anything as they were herded into a tiny round room and then led up stone cut stairs that circled the edges of the room.
The Tredians seemed to have excellent night vision, as the place was barely lit. Air ventilation of some kind existed because a soft breeze was flowing around them, but it didn’t help the slightly claustrophobic sensation Jim had. The stairs were narrow and compressed without any type of safety rail. They wound upwards for forever and Jim shifted forwards a bit to climb near a Tredian.
“Do you live inside the cliffs?” he asked politely.
The Tredian clicked its tongue.
“Yes of course,” The voice was female and authoritative, “We have few options, when the water comes in at the edges of the day, only the cliffs remain.”
The oddly poetic statement took awhile for Jim’s translator to interpret but he registered that she was referring to a tide.
“You are from Earth?” the woman asked in standard and Jim responded with a murmured affirmative, knowing she wouldn’t catch his nod in the near darkness.
He shivered, his damp clothes unable to dry in the chilly air, though the Tredians didn’t seem to mind being constantly wet.
“Earth was once prized for its water,” the woman declared, “but it does not compare to Tredia.”
“No,” Jim replied, pressing closer to the inside stone wall and trying to focus on his steps in the darkness, “it doesn’t.”
Privately, he found Earth a lot more comforting. Tredia was literally only rock and water, and by the sound of it when the tides came in it was mostly water.
“And your officer with the pointed ears, is his homeworld not prized for water?” she asked suddenly and out of the darkness Jim felt more than saw Spock turn his head towards them.
“Um, well, Vulcans live in dry hot climates.” Jim responded, not really wanting to bring up the subject of Spock’s homeworld. A noise came near him and he recognized it as some sort of laugh.
“Forgive me,” a male Tredian spoke and Jim recognized it as the one who had checked him out earlier, “Such a thing is unheard of. Dryness? How does he survive?”
“Oh, Vulcans are really adaptable,” Jim said, and couldn’t help the admiration in his voice.
He had quite a respect for Spock’s rapid adjustments to the various environments and climates that they ended up in. And judging from what he had gleaned from conversations with Spock’s counterpart, adaptability was something of a personality trait of Spock’s.
“To live in dryness is to be ignorant to that which is life,” another Tredian informed them and Jim felt a rush of anger.
It was followed by gratitude as Uhura jumped into the conversation, explaining the cultural and physiological differences between species so eloquently that the Tredians were soon humming in approval of her communication skills.
Jim grinned, slowing his steps so that he was now climbing next to Spock, his legs burning from the repetitive exercise as they continued up the endless staircase.
“Are you cold?” he asked quietly and felt Spock shift near him.
“Negative, Captain.”
The voice was calm and assured, but there was a softness there that Jim could feel. He reached out, patting the Vulcan’s arm, his fingers brushing against the damp coat sleeve,
“Well I’m freezing,” he remarked lightly, dropping his hand away and continuing to climb.
* * * * *
It felt like hours before they reached their destination, which turned out to be a bunch of interlocking rooms. There was no furniture and hardly any more light then there had been on the stairs, but it was impressive that the Tredians had been able to carve so much out inside a cliff. The Tredians settled cross-legged on the floor and Jim did as well.
They formed a circle, the Tredian advisers on one side, Jim and his landing crew on the other. He quickly looked over at his crew, one of his security officers, Ensign Hathor, looked bored, but the other one, Ensign Richards, was obviously showing interest now, her eyes bright as she surveyed the room. Uhura was seated politely, her expression calm. She sat close to Scotty who remarkably didn’t look like he missed the ship at all. Jim lifted his eyebrows slightly at the man but Scotty blinked innocently, as if he hadn’t been complaining all morning about beaming down to ‘ah hellish place that dinna have drinks or engines.’ Apparently Uhura more than made up for that.
His gaze fell on his first officer who sat with perfect posture, calmly watching him. Spock titled his head slightly to the side, his short bangs damp with the moisture that remained a constant on Tredia. They exchanged a long look and Jim could feel Spock’s focus on him, channeling concerns about the mission and a strong dislike of the cold, despite his blank face. Jim grinned and turned back to face the Tredians who regarded them placidly.
“We have considered your offer of a more permanent Federation status, but we have not yet met in agreement. As is our way, our advisers,” the leader gestured gravely to the Tredians surrounding him, “have one final discussion to commence.”
Jim nodded. Uhura had mentioned in her report that the Tredian advisers always met three times to discuss something before making a final decision. He waited and another Tredian spoke, her voice identifying her as the woman who he had talked to on the stairs.
“When the night meal is finished, we shall impart our decision. For now, please feel free to walk among us. You are explorers, we are told.”
It may have been humor, or possibly sarcasm, but her voice had little inflection and Jim responded with another nod.